


Sweater Weather

by KaneCorp



Series: Muriel deserves affection [1]
Category: The Arcana (Visual Novel)
Genre: Fluff, Gender Neutral MC - Freeform, Gift Giving, i worry about him sometimes ok, the gender of mc isn't referenced at all so
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-30
Updated: 2017-11-30
Packaged: 2019-02-08 15:11:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,135
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12867225
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KaneCorp/pseuds/KaneCorp
Summary: It's getting colder as winter comes, and you can't help but worry about Muriel, even if he doesn't.or: we're gonna have a talk with Muriel and tell him nice things and let him know we care whether he actually believes us or not





	Sweater Weather

**Author's Note:**

  * For [gonnaslapaboo](https://archiveofourown.org/users/gonnaslapaboo/gifts).



> mmmmm, this is my first posted work in a long time and i honestly had fun writing it! since there hasn't been much released story-wise regarding Muriel, i've taken a few liberties with characterisation, and when more has been released i'll likely come back and edit this for accuracy

It’s done! It’s finally finished!! You hold your creation up and shake it out as best you can. The heavy material weighs at your arms as you look at it with pride shining in your eyes. It’s a bulky sweater; large, hand-knit, and cream-coloured. You’ve never really made something quite so big before, but you think you’ve managed pretty darn well over the week it took you to make it. It gets one last shake before you fold it as tightly as you can and place it into your shoulder bag, leaving the bag bulging with an uneven lump. With noon approaching, you take your bag and make way to the markets, locking the shop doors behind you. There’s someone you’re looking for, someone very specific, and they should be in town today if you remember correctly…

You stick to the more secluded paths, knowing your quarry is unlikely to be amongst the crowds. Well, if he’s here at all. It has been a little over a week since you last saw him, right? This should be around the time he comes for supplies… you hope. If not, you’ll have to spend the next few days waiting for him to come into town just so you can give him a gift. Man, thinking about it now, you’re starting to get embarrassed. You’ve only met him a handful of times, and now you’re just going to give him a handmade sweater? You’re not even sure if it’ll fit him. Fuck, what if it doesn’t fit him? You kind of guesstimated the measurements since he’s so big and you didn’t really have any way to check. It’s probably not going to fit, it’s going to be too tight in the shoulders and the sleeves are going to be too long and- Fuck! There he is!

He’s standing at the end of the alley intersecting your own path, a rucksack tossed over his shoulder and a ponderous frown on his face. He must’ve stopped walking when he spotted you, letting you decide if you wanted to approach and engage conversation or just let you both continue on your way. Unfortunately you stopped too, and now you’re standing there at the intersection staring wide-eyed and slack-jawed at him as he stares back evenly. You’re almost certain there’s no way that your sweater is going to fit him now that you can see him in person again. This is going to be so embarrassing.

You abandon those thoughts as best you can and smile at him. “Muriel! Thought I’d see you today!” He doesn’t smile back, but he does lift a hand and incline his head in way of greeting. You move to step towards him and ask, “Do you mind if we talk for a bit? I kinda think I’ve been missing your company.” Definitely not the smoothest conversation starter and also definitely sounds way too clingy towards a guy you barely know, but it could’ve been worse.

He frowns a little harder before he answers, his voice as gravelly as usual, “I don’t mind, if you really want to.” You move closer to him while trying to think of what to say next. Honestly, you kind of only got as far as ‘give him the sweater and leave’ when you were thinking about how to do this, and you don’t think just throwing the massive bundle of wool at him and running is much of an option anymore. “I don’t really know what there is to miss about me, though,” Muriel’s voice breaks your train of thought as he speaks again, surprising you as well as feeding the niggling worry you’ve had since you first met him.

It’s bugged you, the way he carries himself, how he takes whatever’s said to him in solemn silence, be it an insult or dismissal. You haven’t seen him interact with others much, and the scarce few times you have, everything about him just screamed resignation. It bothers you and you aren’t sure why, but you can’t let him dismiss himself like that. You hum a moment in thought, thinking about your words before you speak. “I don’t know if anyone really knows what’s to miss about themselves since we can’t really leave ourselves, but I think it’s easy to miss someone once you’ve met them. Especially if it wasn’t for very long, like, short meetings can leave lasting impressions since they’re fleeting. You want to hold onto it more since it was such a,” you pause, searching for the words you want, “unique experience.” You don’t think you did very good with this, but words have never been easy for you.

Muriel closes his eyes for a moment, before looking to the side in thought. A low sound like a mixture between chewing rocks and a grunt comes from him, which you can only assume is supposed to be a hum. “I think I understand what you mean,” he turns his eyes to look at you, “and maybe you’re right.” You smile, glad that you managed to get your point across, before his next words wipe it off your face, “I’ll try not to overstay my welcome, then.” 

You almost sputter aloud, that is so far from the point you wanted to make! You wanted to assure him that even if you haven’t known someone for long it’s still possible to become someone important to them. You have to fix this, you can’t let him think you were trying to get rid of him! “That’s!” your voice is loud with panic so you try again, “I mean, that’s not really what I was getting at, but, um, I’m not sure how to put it…” Now you’re floundering and he’s staring at you, you’ve gotta say something to save this conversation from the sudden hectic nosedive that you feel like it’s spun into. 

Muriel doesn’t let you collect yourself. “It’s fine, you don’t have to explain yourself.” The way he says it, so matter-of-fact yet completely without reproach was almost too much. The way he closes his eyes somberly and moves as if to leave is the nail in the coffin.

Now you’re frustrated. He’s not even going to listen to you? Your brows furrow and your voice is stern, “Now wait a second Muriel-” He stops and meets your gaze, heavy moss-coloured eyes leveling you with a quiet stare. A lump forms in your throat and you try to swallow, frantic words spilling truths unbidden from your mouth, “I’m trying to tell you that I like you, or your company at least!” Now it’s Muriel’s turn to furrow his brow, but he doesn’t say anything and lets you continue. You kind of wish he would stop you. “I don’t know what it is, but I like being around you, and I worry about you sometimes! I worry about if you’re taking care of yourself properly in whatever secret hermit hut you live in, about if you’re feeling alright, or what if you get sick who’ll help you!” Your voice was taut with stress, you yourself uncomfortable with this honesty, and you felt your face warm in a confused mixture of embarrassment and excitement.

You hadn’t realized it but your hand had reached out for his, and now you notice yourself holding onto his forearm only after he casts a glance towards where you’ve grabbed him. He doesn’t move to shake you off, instead he looks at the pinched lines of your face and says, “Sorry.” Your frustration almost doubles, but he continues, “I didn’t think you’d get upset.” The rolling grumble that is his voice is subdued, as gentle as it can probably be. “I didn’t really think you cared.” You… Don’t really know what to do with that.

You chew gently on your bottom lip, considering how to reply. For the moment you relax your grip on his arm, not letting go, but not clasping it like you had been. “Well,” you start slowly, “I do care. In fact, I care so much I, uh, wanted to give you something.” Saying that, you let go of him completely and pull your bag around to your front, opening it and trying to retrieve the sweater without throwing other things out of your pack.

You hold the sweater in your hands, now messily folded, and offer it to him. His face has relaxed some, but you can still see worry in the curve of his mouth. “It’s been getting colder since it’s nearly winter, and I got worried because I’ve never seen you wear a shirt, so I thought maybe you didn’t have anything warm to wear and I- just, just take it, please.” You can’t quite meet his eyes, and you were so right, this is so awkward.

Muriel takes the woolen item from your hands slowly, letting the folds fall open so he can see what it is properly. He makes a face like he’s not quite sure what he’s looking at, and holds it spread in front of him as he hazards a guess, “It’s… a sweater?” You can’t really blame him for his confusion, especially since the sleeves are extra wide and the collar open and pooling with surplus fabric. Looking at it this way, it might actually fit him, but you still feel like it won’t.

“Yeah, it’s a sweater. I, um, made it for you special since I didn’t know if those chains and collar came off so I tried to make sure it could go around them. That’s kind of why it looks so weird,” you’re shuffling your feet now as he examines the clothing item in his hands. He hasn’t really said anything for a few moments, still just turning it over in his hands, and the silence is killing you. “It might not really fit right, since I didn’t know your measurements or anything. You don’t have to wear it if you don’t want to, I just,” you sigh, “wanted to make sure you had something for the winter.”

It’s a few more moments longer before he says anything. When he speaks it’s almost surprisingly quiet, soft around the edges, “It’s well made. Thank you.” You think you can spot the smallest suggestion of an upward curve to his lips, and you aren’t sure why but it makes you smile in turn.

Muriel looks at you before taking the sweater into one hand, slinging his rucksack to the ground and taking off his cloak. That’s a lot more active than he usually is when you see him, and it’s also a lot more skin. “Woah, are you just, gonna try it on now?” His arms are already snaking through the sleeves, pulling the chains through and then gripping the hem and neck hole to hold them wide when you’ve finished speaking.

“I am. You deserve to know if it fits or not,” his voice is even and his expression is as neutral as ever once again. Pulling the knit sweater up and over his head, you can’t help but notice as the muscles in his arms and chest move, and you try not to linger on the hard planes of his abs for any longer than necessary. Just for a second, maybe, no longer, you swear.

With a final tug, he situates the sweater around the spiked gorget on his neck, the wide ends of the sleeves flapping flaccidly as his arms move. In all honesty, it looks fucking ridiculous. The sleeves are long and flowing, curling on themselves by virtue of the fact they’re knit, and the wide scoop neck of the sweater with the collar piled high atop it is an odd fashion statement, to say the least. You can’t help but snicker, “You look like a shitty wizard.”

Muriel’s smoothing the bottom hem against his sides when he replies, “I feel like a shitty wizard.” His tone is such genuine deadpan that you burst with laughter. When you’ve stopped, he looks at you before saying, “It’s very warm. I like it.” This time you can definitely see it, there’s a small quirk of the lips for just a moment, his eyes soft like you haven’t seen before, before it passes. It leaves you feeling warm too, warm inside your chest and you think you’d like to see him smile more often.

He throws his cloak back over his shoulders, and bends down to retrieve the strap of his rucksack, thanking you again as you part ways. You tell him you’d like to see him again and he says that you might before he leaves to finish whatever shopping he came to the city to do. You think you might go purchase some more wool. It simply wouldn’t do for him to have just the one sweater to wear all winter.


End file.
